One of Cloakwork's recently erased 'mini shop' murals in Kuala Lumpur. Photo: Cloakwork
This month has been a startling one for street artist Cloakwork, as authorities – KL City Hall, DBKL – have erased seven of his artworks in Kuala Lumpur. These include two from his mini shop series, two "vintage matchbox" designs, and three electricity-themed characters.
A recent online post by street artist and illustrator (real name Chern Loo), has drawn significant attention from both the art community and the public after authorities removed his artworks from these public spaces.
“My life motto is give and take. I've always wanted to give back to the community by painting walls with vibrant colours, adding a bit of life to them. It’s a way to spark some fun and creativity in an otherwise mundane city,” says Cloakwork, 34, in a recent interview.
The KL-born artist's work often transforms overlooked urban spaces into vibrant canvases, blending contemporary street art with elements of Malaysian nostalgia.
By incorporating familiar everyday objects like old matchboxes, "pop-pop" fireworks, and vintage tin toys, Cloakwork’s murals serve as cultural time capsules, resonating with locals who grew up with these icons.
In Kuala Lumpur last week, two of his artworks at the abandoned "mini shops" by bus stops have been removed. These stalls once sold newspapers, sweets, fruits and other small goods.
One mural depicted a merchant selling KL souvenirs, magazines, and fruits, while another showcased a carnival game booth with a sleeping cowboy attendant.
One of Cloakwork's erased 'mini shop' murals featured a 'Bodega' sign, meaning a wine shop in Spanish but a grocery store in New York. KL authorities determined its interpretation to avoid perceived alcohol promotion on a public property. Photo: Cloakwork
In the last few years, Cloakwork has also been exploring the superhero realm, using Tenaga Nasional Berhad’s facilities across the city as canvases for characters and villains with electric powers.
“The '#TNBseries' started as my own initiative when I stumbled upon the worn-out substations in areas like Titiwangsa, Petaling Jaya, Mont Kiara, and others. For each substation, I created a hero character that embraced our inner child, incorporating lightning and electrical elements, along with some storytelling touches. After completing a few characters, they took notice and sent me an email to discuss potential future collaborations. However, along the way, there was no follow up,” he shares.
Unfortunately, three of these artworks have been erased by authorities.
Another project from last year, where he transformed abandoned utility boxes in Kuala Lumpur into oversized retro safety matchboxes inspired by Pop Art, has also had two pieces erased.
“In my career as an artist and illustrator, the works I create with the intention of beautifying public spaces are often erased - unless they’re part of a formal project, which are rare opportunities," says Cloakwork, who has been involved in the local street art scene for nearly 15 years.
"I believe Malaysia is still somewhat conservative when it comes to art and its mediums, often associating it with vandalism or protest. Typically, authorities remove these works in a short amount of time without providing any clear justification,” he adds.
An example from Cloakwork's mural series, which revitalised abandoned 'mini shops' in Kuala Lumpur. Photo: Cloakwork
This is a common challenge among the street artist community in Malaysia, where there are no clear guidelines or accountability statements from the authorities.
Artists have to learn as they go, knowing there’s always a risk that their work – into which they invest time, effort, and money – is only temporary.
“I would say that many talented artists in Malaysia face the same challenges - our hard-earned creations are often erased by authorities in a short period of time. The materials we use aren’t cheap either. It’s disheartening that local authorities still fail to recognise our value as artists, which can break the spirit of many young, talented creators," says Cloakwork, who travels abroad regularly for street art projects and mural commissions.
"This is why some artists opt for quick, easy works – they feel that putting in so much effort only to have it removed and unappreciated is not worth it, especially since the artwork won’t last long anyway,” he explains.
Navigating an evolving landscape
Street art regulations in Kuala Lumpur bring up questions of ownership – who decides what stays and what goes? With these "street canvases" on public property under DBKL’s jurisdiction, the authorities have the final say.
“If the location involves a private building, consent from the owner of the premises must be obtained. For public premises such as bus stops and flyovers, approval from the relevant department within DBKL (Jabatan Pelaksanaan Projek dan Penyelenggaraan Bangunan) is required. If it involves other ministries or government agencies, they are the owners of the premises,” says Andre Lai, Kuala Lumpur Advisory Board member, who works closely with DBKL on community-related issues in the capital.
Last July, Russian artist Julia Volchkova's "Goldsmith" mural, painted on the side of a two-storey building in Jalan Panggung, Kuala Lumpur, was covered with white paint. The building was a private property.
DBKL was not involved in that removal.
According to Lai, DBKL follows specific guidelines when evaluating street art. Beyond the 3R ruling, they assess elements like branding, depictions of negative behaviour (smoking, drinking), and even Western influences.
For example, one of Cloakwork's mini shop murals - that was erased - featured a "Bodega" sign. While the word means a wine shop or cellar in Spanish-speaking countries, in places like New York, it refers to a small grocery store. However, it is up to the authorities in KL to interpret its meaning, ensuring public property isn’t perceived as promoting alcohol.
Cloakwork recently took to social media to express his dismay over authorities erasing his street art in KL. Photo: Cloakwork
“Murals approved by DBKL focus on national unity, featuring elements of flora, fauna, diverse communities, and local culture. This differs from graffiti, which prioritises individual creative styles that may not be widely accepted by society. For example, a bus stop painted with the word 'bodega' in graffiti may appear visually appealing, but in Spanish, 'bodega' refers to a liquor store,” says Lai.
Although he finds the erasures disheartening, he advocates for stronger collaboration between artists and authorities to create more opportunities for street art in Kuala Lumpur.
“DBKL has comprehensive guidelines for all types of applications. While there are no specific guidelines for individual artists, DBKL has implemented a system to process applications from individuals or companies on a case-by-case basis. With the recent growth of mural culture, I understand that DBKL is working on new guidelines to formalise applications for murals and public artworks in the city, including sculptures and other installations,” says Lai.
As street art grows in popularity, finding a balance between artistic expression and regulations remains a challenge—one that can be addressed through open dialogue and collaboration.
“Last year, DBKL also signed a Memorandum of Understanding (MOU) with ThinkCity, an entity under Khazanah, to develop Kuala Lumpur as a 'Cultural and Creative District.' Efforts are currently underway to accelerate the beautification of the capital,” concludes Lai.
